


give me a sign (fingerspell it out)

by soniclipstick (veriscence)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616, Secret Avengers
Genre: Awesome Phil Coulson, Deaf Clint Barton, Insecure Clint Barton, M/M, Post Hawkeye 22, Post Secret Avengers Vol 3, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veriscence/pseuds/soniclipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson comes back from his vacation to learn that his teammate Clint Barton has been deafened by tracksuit mobsters. Thankfully, that’s not enough to make Phil give up. He was promised a date, and he’s damn well going to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give me a sign (fingerspell it out)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mapleandmahogany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleandmahogany/gifts).



> For the following prompts:  
> Either character rehabbing after an injury and navigating sex, body image and independence.  
> Fraction's Hawkguy canon.
> 
> Teslamaple/mapleandmahogany, I kind of ran with it, and it isn't exactly this, but I hope you like it anyway - I had a lot of fun writing it. 
> 
> Hover over text for sign language translations.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Phil Coulson has always been known as a man of deliberation. Even in his Ranger days Nick had always been the action man, while Phil preferred thinking carefully before making his move. Which is why the words coming out of his mouth shock him even before he presses his lips together to make the ‘m’ in ‘me’.

“Come again?” Clint Barton looks at him in the debriefing room, hair adorably tousled up and face contorted in confusion. They’re alone, the others having long cleared the room. Phil’s around because they’re still writing up their after action reports and also because he really likes spending time with Clint. Hawkeye doesn’t know when to shut up, which might seem like an annoying trait in a field agent, and it _can_ be. But for the most part, Phil finds him adorable. Nick finds Phil’s crush pathetic, but who cares what Nick says.

“Dinner,” Phil repeats. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Like what? On a date?”

This is it. The moment of truth. He can lie and change his mind, save this for a better time, like _never._ “Yes.”

Clint doesn’t say anything for a while after that, so Phil takes that as a no and stands up, picking up his paperwork.

“Really?”

Phil pauses, holding the paperwork up in front of him like a flimsy shield. Oh what he would do for his Captain America shield right about now. It wasn’t vibranium, but it was a better shield that a thin sheet of dead tree. “Yes?”

“Oh. Are you sure? You know my relationship history is—“

“Colourful, yes.” Phil’s worked with way too many of Clint Barton’s exes not to know otherwise.

“And you’re still interested? Are you crazy?” Clint asks, then hold his palm up. “Never mind. You’re a SHIELD agent.”

“Yes,” Phil can’t help grinning at that. “And you’re an Avenger. Pot, kettle, do I need to finish this thought?”

“Okay,” Clint rubs his neck.

“No pressure,” Phil tells him. “You can tell me when I get back from vacation, or, you know, we can pretend I never said that.”

“Or you could buy me pizza and binge watch _Dog Cops_ with me,” Clint replies with a — and Phil only believes it because he sees it with his own eyes — shy smile.

“It’s a date, then.”

-

Phil cannot wait for his vacation to be over.

-

Phil Coulson comes back from vacation with his best friend and the first thing he learns is that his teammate’s lost his hearing. Phil has come to realise that Clint Barton, though not nearly as incompetent as he would like the world to believe he is, is a large magnet for bad luck. In Phil’s superhero rankings, he comes in third only after Spider-Man and Daredevil.

So after spending eight hours reading through what’s happened since he went on vacation, he packs up, locks his office and decides to check in on Hawkeye. Unfortunately, his own luck fails him twice, as Hawkeye is not to be found, neither at the mansion nor in the Tower. A helpful Mr. Jarvis offers him an address in Bed Stuy. By then it’s five pm and rush hour is fully underway.

Thankfully, mid-town rush hour is not a problem to Lola.   

-

There is a girl with pink hair and a guitar sitting on the front steps of the apartment; police tape and the smell of burnt wood invite him in. Phil takes the stairs all the way up, then rings the bell and waits.

And waits.

.

He turns at the sound of steps coming up the stairs. A big, brown dog with a shoulder brace starts at the sight of Phil, and then butts his leg, pushing him gently towards the door. This must be Lucky. Clint’s spoken of his acquired canine friend multiple times mid-mission to Hill’s ever growing frustration at the chatter. Phil obliges, turning the handle of the door, which opens. The door chain appears to be missing.

Clint Barton sits on his couch, apparently labelling his arrows. There is one in his hand, and a pile of arrows in his lap. There are also more on the floor and the coffee table. Lucky walks over to the pile on the floor, and promptly flops on top of it.

“Aww, Lucky, no.” Clint sighs, and looks at Phil. “What are you doing here? Did I miss a call to assemble or something?”

“No, aren’t you off the active duty until you get better?” Phil turns around to close the door behind him. “Wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Yeah, Phil if I can’t see your lips, I can’t read them,” Clint says. Right. This might be new to Phil, but Clint’s been deaf before. He’s learned to read lips.

“Oh,” Phil quickly faces Clint. “I’m sorry. That was idiotic of me.”

“Did you stand there ringing the bell until Lucky let you in?” Clint asks, one eyebrow raised. There’s a half smirk on his lips and Phil’s not charmed, he really isn’t. Of all the superheroes to develop a crush on, it had to be the one with the quick tongue and sharp wit.  

“It’s okay. Kate did that the first time, too,” Clint says, before returning to his roll of tape. “So, mission?”

“No, Hill said you’re off active duty until you’re fit.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “I fought giant lizards with Spider-Man yesterday, and we were just fine. Except you know, when he had his mask down over his mouth. But we were fine. Are you just going to stand there all day?”

“Isn’t Stark making you hearing aids?” Phil asks as he walks towards Clint. He takes a seat across from Clint and the arrows.

Clint winces. “Right. I knew I forgot something…”

“You _forgot_ to ask him for hearing aids?”

“He’s Tony Stark, he has a million different things to do on any given day, and the only person he drops everything for is Cap.” Clint rolls his eyes at that, then smiles at some inside joke.

“Call him now,” Phil orders, using his no-nonsense voice — it’s the one he usually saves for when Fitz does something insane like try to order a monkey online. Hearing aids may not be important in real life, but on missions, they’re necessary.

“I wouldn’t hear him talking to me, dumbass.”

“Like you don’t have video capability on your StarkPhone,” Phil shoots back.

Clint rolls his eyes, _again._ Then he pulls out his phone and dials before setting it against the coffee mug on the salon table in front of him. A few seconds later, Tony Stark’s profile meets them on the screen. The phone is propped up in a way that Stark can continue working while talking to Clint. _He_ makes sure to keep his lips in Clint’s view the whole time.

“Hearing aids are on the way Clint, but honestly, this would be easier if you just let me make you some cochlear implants—”

“But I didn’t even—”

“You’re on sick leave from SHIELD and you don’t think they’d pass the information down to me? I _am_ co-leader of the Avengers, you know?” Stark grumbles.

“ _What_ happened to your heater?” Clint asks, eyebrows furrowed. Before Phil can clarify, Stark sighs and puts down the blowtorch to start signing in rapid-fire.  He ends it by slapping a sideways peace sign onto his forehead.  

The only thing Phil understands is Clint’s answer, which is the ever eloquent middle finger. Then he brings his flat palm up to his lips and brings it down and towards Stark, who shrugs his shoulders and then cocks a finger gun before pointing it at Clint. The action is echoed and then Clint reaches forward to end the call. 

“Cochlear implants, my ass.”

“Did he learn sign language for you?” Phil asks. He hadn’t known Tony Stark spoke ASL. And Phil’s supposed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Avengers.

“Pietro dared him he couldn’t do it,” Clint grins. “It took him all of two days to master it. Anyways, thought you were here to throw me a pity party, not get the dish on Tony Stark.”

Clint’s face is joking but his eyes are intense, as if he’s challenging Phil. So Phil replies with, “Actually I was hoping for dinner and _Dog Cops._ ”

“I don’t know, I’m not great date company right now,” Clint says, putting down another labelled arrow.

Phil looks at Clint, who begins to observe the next arrow with far too much scrutiny. He’s not sure if Clint’s changed his mind or if he’s just having a rough couple of days. Phil needs to choose his words carefully now. “I can leave if that’s what you prefer, but I think you’re doing fine.”

Clint huffs. “I’m trying to give you an out here, Phil.”

“I don’t want an out.” Phil focuses his eyes on Lucky, who is batting his paws at a putty arrow. “Do _you_ want an out?”

“ _I_ don’t want an out, but I’d really understand if you wanted one now.” He holds the arrow between them.

What could have happened between before Phil went on vacation and now to make Clint think that he would have changed his mind? Oh. “Clint—“

Phil stops, reaches forward to pat Clint on the knee to catch his attention. He waits until Clint can read his lips before continuing. “Clint, I don’t care if you’ve lost your hearing. I like you and I’d like to spend more time with you. Being deaf doesn’t change that. And I might not be as fast as Tony Stark when it comes to learning ASL, but I would like to try. Will you let me?”

Clint tilts his head to the side and looks adorably surprised. After a long pause, he holds up a fist and then moves it up and down. Phil raises an eyebrow in question. “That means yes, by the way.”

And suddenly Clint’s close. He takes Phil’s hand from his knee and threads their fingers together. Clint waits, as if he needs Phil to make the next move, as if he’s still afraid this is a dream. And Phil, he’s not the best at relationships, but he really wants this, so he leans in that last little bit, and presses a gentle kiss to Clint’s lips, careful of his split lip.

The sound of an explosion jerks Phil away, and Clint looks hurt for one moment before he follows Phil’s gaze down to Lucky, whose paws are now covered in putty. “Aww, Lucky, _no_. Putty’s a pain to get out!” Clint gazes back at Phil with a soft look in his eyes. “This is going to take a few hours to fix, are you sure you wanna stick around?”

Phil grins and holds his fist out, moving it up and down.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading! Come find me on tumblr, I'm soniclipstick there too:)


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